Louder Than Words
by Bevin
Summary: Jonothan Starsmore and Paige Guthrie attempt to make sense of their relationship in standard teenager fashion. Old story from '96, but people seem to like it. Fixed Ch. 2.
1. The Sound of Psilence

London had never seemed so perfect. Even the people who were rude didn't bother him, that not being unusual in and of itself, but most of the people who were normally rude in this quaint little club weren't there. Considering most of them worked for the place, that was on the odd side. Or at least that's what he would've been thinking if he hadn't been otherwise occupied. That was the other weird thing. Gayle was there along with one of her friends who, convieniently enough, was a record producer for a small but at least existant label.  
  
Which was why he found himself sitting on a rather tall stool in the middle of an otherwise empty stage with a spotlight practically blinding him, turning all the people in the audience into oddly shaped silouhettes. He shifted slightly, feeling the wood of his guitar shift with him on his thigh. He should've been nervous. He probably would've thought that was odd too, if he had thought about it.  
  
He set his left hand on the wood of the instrument's neck which had somehow managed to stay cool under the intense heat of the spotlight. Instinctively he found the right fingerings for his first chord and placed his right hand over the strings, the first lyrics of the song fresh in his mind. Moistening his dry lips, he leaned slightly towards the microphone to give himself a bit more volume.  
  
"Oh raht there!"  
  
He blinked with understandable surprise. He glanced around but no one else seemed to have noticed the strange words he'd uttered a moment ago. Maybe he was just more nervous than he thought.  
  
He leaned forward again, making sure he wasn't going to embarass himself again. He took a breath, catching a faint whiff of lingering cigarette smoke, his lips lightly brushing the mike.  
  
"Oh, Jono, yes!!"  
  
Jonothan Starsmore found himself staring at the ceiling over his bed, an odd mixture of annoyance and excitement racing through his veins. Already most of the dream was fading from his memory, leaving only vague impressions of the spectacle his subconscious had played for itself while he slept. He knew Gayle had been there, and he had been speaking with someone else's voice. He grasped desperately at the last tendrils of his subconscious fantasy before they slipped away, but couldn't hold onto the memories.  
  
Heaving a mental sigh, the young man glanced over at his clock, knowing it was too early to expect anyone else to be up, but too late to go back to sleep. 6:30. Sighing again, the British mutant managed to pull himself out from between the covers of his bed, the floor refreshingly cool against his overheated feet.  
  
Sitting on his couch, he picked up the remote and the television screen sprang to life, sending Jono's shadow flickering to the far wall. Flipping past children's show after children's show, he finally just decided to read. He was a few pages into 'A Clockwork Orange' when he felt someone moving around upstairs. Knowing that neither of the headmasters were insane enough to get up at this hour, he surmised it must have been Paige. He decided he really wasn't into his book.  
  
Climbing the stairs, he thought about the irony of the situation. Here he was, climbing the stairs out of the basement room he had specifically chosen to be alone in to go talk to one of the people he'd wanted to be away from. Except Paige was one of the two people he'd reached out to since he'd arrived in Massachusetts, and Penance was a good listener, but not really one to hold up her end of a conversation.  
  
Reaching the top of the stairs he opened the door and blinked against the light that suddenly assaulted his eyes. Not waiting for them to adjust, he stepped into the kitchen. Paige was sitting at the table, her back to him, absorbed in her thoughts. He wondered for a brief moment if he should leave her alone to them, but he picked up a vague impression that she'd come here hoping for someone to talk to.  
  
~Paige?~ he ventured cautiously. She jumped as the thought entered her mind. She whirled around in surprise, her eyes huge. It was times like these he wished he had a mouth; psionic speech was so blunt, assaulting all the senses to form a vague impression, not really a word, as those who've never experienced it often think. Rather unsettling really.  
  
"Jono? My God, you scared me." He caught a faint impression of embarrassment coming from her, as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. 

~Sorry, didn't mean to.~  
  
"Ah--I know." She paused for a minute, not knowing what to say to him. Evidently he was in the same boat. Finally the silence became too awkward to endure and she asked him to sit down. He mutely complied. He hoped she wouldn't think he was being cold, he just didn't think anything he could say would be of any use and he'd end up sounding stupid. So he stayed silent as she explained about her not being able to sleep.  
  
"So, why're you up?" she finally asked him.  
  
~Same as you, couldn't sleep.~  
  
"Oh." She glanced nervously at the clock on the wall for a moment before returning her attention to her hands which were currently twisting a piece of hair around her finger. "Do--do you know why?" she asked.  
  
Jonothan blinked in surprise.  
  
~Odd question, that.~ She looked uncomfortable and twisted her hair tighter. ~I don't know, odd dream, I guess.~ That seemed to worsen her condition as she ended up breaking a few hairs off.  
  
Paige looked down at her broken hair in embarassment. She'd just tipped her hand, hadn't she? Well if she acted quickly she could cover it up.  
  
"Uh, I've got fifteen minutes before classes start, so Ah'm--I'm going to go get ready. For class, I mean." She stood up, causing him to rise with her. As she got to the doorway she turned to face him again.  
  
"Jono, I--" But as soon as she looked at him whatever she was going to say dissolved on her tongue, forgotten. There was just something about him standing there at the table, sunlight glinting off the leather straps that held in the literal and figurative inferno of his chest, that made her pause.  
  
A small breeze blew in from a nearby open window, creating waves of light to spill over her corn silk hair, making a few loose hairs blow across her face. One gossamer strand landed on her bottom lip and in one unconsciously graceful move she brushed her cheek, removing the erring fiber. The single blade of sunlight that sliced at his grim preceptions of reality lit her up like an angel and gave her cyan blue eyes such a radiant sparkle. But then, she had beautiful eyes in any light. In fact they seemed to emit their own soft radience, illuminating her face. They had the intensity and the pure blue of the center of a candle flame.  
  
And then those startling blue flames found his own dull brown eyes. It didn't happen often, but when they finally did meet each other's gaze, he felt a slight tingling sensation all over what was left of his body. And he was always brought back to the scene where he held her almost lifeless body in his arms, not caring if Omega Red stomped his way clear across the country. His only concern was the radient angel slipping away as he watched, and the hole in his chest seeming endless and hollow and aching so badly he could cry. And after she recovered, every time since then that he'd seen her he felt a tug at his chest, like the hole never completely went away and never would because the only one who could fill it would never show interest in a hideous monster like him.  
  
He knew he was staring, but he didn't care, he wanted her to know. He wanted her to know some nights that ache was so powerful it almost overpowered the feeling of the tears slipping silently over his face. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her so tightly nothing could ever make him let go. He wanted to be able to make her laugh and brush her tears away. He wanted her to know that he sometimes fantasized about what would've happened if he'd let her kiss him, how much they both might've changed after that. That with her the world seemed bearable, he could learn to live with his scars if she could.  
  
*Yer a regular bloody William Blake aren't yer, Starsmore? You'll never tell 'er because if yer did, she'd laugh in yer face. What's left of it.* He'd never tell her, he knew that for sure.  
  
His eyes dropped to the floor along with her hopes. It had looked like he was going to tell her something for a minute, but it was apparantly just the light. She told herself she was just reading into things again, that she messed things up when she made that pass at him. Ever since then he'd been even more distant than before, avoiding her instead of simply being withdrawn. A few times she thought she'd seen something in those luminescent brown eyes, but she figured if he wanted to pursue anything with her he'd have said something. After all, he had so much more experience in this area of life than she did. He really didn't seem like the shy type and if he wanted her he'd just say something. But she didn't even know if he wanted her for a friend, let alone a...girlfriend. He gave off such mixed messages, sometimes friendly, sometimes avoiding her altogether. And if he had any idea what she'd been dreaming that night, he'd probably fly back to London that day. She couldn't believe the filthiness of her own mind! As if people could really get into that position without breaking something.  
  
*Oh, you're obsessed, Paige Guthrie. Stop it raht now, he maht be pickin' up your thoughts.* But she didn't want to stop. She wanted to love him and only him for the rest of her life. But that would never happen. She'd never let on, he'd never speak to her again.  
  
~What?~  
  
"What?"  
  
~Yer were goin' ter say somethin', gel. What was it?~  
  
"Just...thank you for talking with me for a little while."  
  
~Sure. No problem.~  
  
The smile she flashed him would've lightened a statue's heart. He only wished he could've returned it. So he waved and tried to bite back that empty ache that stabbed at his chest as he watched her walk away.  
  
Classes were finally over for the day and Jonothan Starsmore wanted nothing more than to be by himself. But for some reason, the thought of him sitting all by himself in the basement just depressed him all the more. He wanted to talk to someone.  
  
The midday sun beat down on cracked and singed face, heating up his tight leather bandages something fierce. But he didn't react. He never did. If there wasn't anything he could do about it, there was no sense in giving himself an ulcer over it. Lord knew he didn't need any new holes.  
  
A slight breeze lifted his long brown locks into his face and mercifully cooled his burning chest. Mostly.  
  
*Lordy, Jono, yer obsessed, yer know that? The lady's not interested, get over 'er and get on wi' yer life.* And the thought *What life?* popped into his head before he could silence it. He paused in the middle of the expansive yard of the Massachussets Academy, his hand on his forehead, holding back tears that burned more than the blue inferno in his chest.  
  
*Yer NOT goin' ter lose it in the middle of the field where anyone could come along an' see yer, Starsmore. Yer NOT!* After repeating that statement several times to himself, his head cleared and he continued his walk to nowhere in particular.  
  
And before he knew it, he found himself in the "Danger Grotto," as Jubilee so affectionately dubbed it. Of all the people at the school, the only one he could talk to couldn't talk back. Maybe that was why. Or maybe it was because she seemed to understand him in a way no one else could, regardless of whether or not she understood what he was saying.  
  
~Penance?~ He knew she probably didn't understand the meaning of the word, but he thought she'd come to recognize it as some sort of reference to herself. 

A faint rustling in one of the back corners of the grotto answered him. Slowly, like a large jungle cat, the girl named Penence crept out of the bushes. Of all the mutants at the school, she was probably the most unique-looking. With dense, diamond-hard skin, she was a vermilion shadow, absorbing all the light surrounding her, making her impossible to distinguish from the shade of the overhanging trees. In fact, the only way to actually be sure of where she was, was to watch her eyes. No pupils, but startlingly blue, throwing off the 'evil killing-machine' look just enough to make it seem even more disturbing. Add on an outfit of leather straps to match his own, and razor sharp hair that didn't even glint in the light, with fingers to match, and you have quite a spectacle. Definitely not the sort you want on your bad side.  
  
After cautiously circling the young man for a moment, she approached him, eyes wide, ready to run or strike at the first sign of trouble on his part. Or maybe she was just looking for something.  
  
Slowly, so as not to startle her, and probably end up losing an appendage, he dug in his jacket pocket and brought out the shining token of his friendship. Without missing a beat she speared the fruit and began happily munching away, fear gone. He took that as an invitaion to sit down, and did so, still absorbed in watching her eat.  
  
Underneath Penny's evil-looking exterior was a frightened fourteen year old girl who wanted desperately to find a friend, but couldn't trust anyone enough to let her guard down. In some ways she reminded him so much of Paige. Their quiet shyness and innocence not quite dead from the things they'd lived through, both wanting to reach out but afraid of not finding anyone there if they did.  
  
Her head glinted in the soft light as she turned it to give him a quizzical look. He realized he'd been staring at her and felt his face get warm. He knew there was no way of apologizing to her so he just averted his eyes, feeling foolish for doing so. Now she was going to think he'd just come in here to stare at her. When his hazel eyes found her metallic form again, he ended up staring again, this time in shock. She was smiling at him! Her pretty mouth had pushed up the flesh of her cheeks and crinkled the skin around her eyes in a way he found oddly...satisfying. He found his spirits lifting and neither of them had even said a word.  
  
Paige chuckled to herself as she watched Jono's surprise and Penny's delight at a monarch butterfly lighting on the top of the young Brit's head. She'd muted the monitor so as not to alert any passerbys of her presence in the room. Even without sound she could see how at ease he was around her as he tried vainly to get the insect to perch on his finger. A small sigh escaped her as she as she reminded herself again of how adorable he could be sometimes.  
  
Now why couldn't he act that way around her? A small pang of envy crept its way into her mood just before the realization hit her.  
  
*Mah God. Penance. He's got a thing for Penance, that's why he's been actin' so cold to me!* A cold dread crystalized in her guts and spread all through her body. She'd practically thrown herself at him, he probably thought she was either a moron or a hussy! Her icy fear reached her face as she watched the two of them on the silent monitor. He was probably talking about her right now.  
  
~...So that's ther situation. I'm nuts fer Paige but there's no way she's gonner go fer a plonker like me.~ He ran a hand through his unkempt mop of wavy brown hair, bringing it to rest on the back of his stiff neck.  
  
~What do yer think I should do? Should I tell the gel o' my dreams how I feel an' damn ther consequences, or suffer in silence?~  
  
Penance just cocked her head, maybe understanding that he was asking her something, but had no way to answer even if she did understand what the question was. A few small wrinkles creased her rust-colored brow as she pondered something. And then she gave him a look that said it all: Do what you think is best. Of course he'd known all along he was going to have to do that, he just wanted to hear it from someone else first.  
  
Giving her the closest facsimile of a smile his fractured face could muster, he stood up, brushed some loose grass from his jeans, and looked toward the door, knowing what he had to do now and looked forward to it with a mixture of impending doom and relief that it would at last end, one way or another.


	2. Flowers on the Wall

*Ah am not goin' to cry. Ah'm not. That's all there is to it. It's none o' mah business anyway. Ah should be happy they found each other. Ah AM. Sure, that's why it feels like someone ripped a hole in yo chest, Guthrie.*  
  
A small sob escaped that newly ripped hole, and was followed by another and another until she knew she couldn't go back to the girl's dorm without getting a lot of stares. But there wasn't anywhere else she could go. There would be people everywhere on a day like today and she definitely did not want to be around people right now.  
  
*Dammit, gal, ya can't go on like this! Ya'll just have to ask 'him. Oh sure, not too obvious, huh? ' 'Scuse me, Jono, but Ah just had to tell you that Ah'm madly in love with you and Ah just wanted to know if you felt the same way. No? Well, thank you for your honesty. 'Scuse me while Ah go blow mah brains out in mah dormroom.' Ya can't do it, Guthrie. How can you be an effective leader if ya can't even look your teammates in the eye because you got an unreciprocated crush on one of 'em.*   
  
But a small nagging corner of her mind told her that she'd feel just as awkward if she told him or not.  
  
Paige was far enough from the school to escape the sounds of splashing and laughter coming from the area of the pool, but Jono wasn't. Figuring Paige, being the social animal that she was, would be there he broke character and decided to join his classmates in the hopes of dragging her aside for a moment. As he neared the pool his skeptical side started making baloon animals out of his lower intestines.  
  
*Yer know,* it piped up obnoxiously from the recesses of his mind, *Yer won't make a very good impression on ther gel if yer look like yer gonner keel over whenever yer talk to her.* He knew he was just being pessimistic, not a big change for him, but it still made him pause.  
  
*'Ey, she was ther one who kissed me!* he told himself angrily. *Sure, she was drunk at ther time, and she asked yer not ter tell anyone about it, but 'ey, that's no reason ter think she doesn't like yer.* he shot back.  
  
His hand ran through his hair again as he thought about just going back to his room until his feelings went away. He finally turned around to do so when--  
  
"Hey, Yorkshire!"  
  
--Jubilee noticed him. Shoulders dropping in defeat, he turned back around to see everyone at the poolside looking at him, some quizzically, some surprised but trying not to show it.  
  
"What'cha doin'?"  
  
Paige wasn't there, he noticed with a mixture of disappointment and relief.  
  
~Leaving.~ he answered just before doing it.  
  
Walking back to his room he briefly considered if he'd actually have done it, had she been there. He honestly couldn't answer himself on that.  
  
He almost didn't see the letter under his door before he stepped on it. Curious as to who would send a letter instead of just talking to him, he opened it as he walked down the stairs to his room. The folded piece of paper inside the open envelope had three sentences on it which he re-read several times, not believing  
what his eyes were telling him. Was she serious?  
  
*Ohhhhh, that was stupidstupidstupidstupid! Why did you put your name on it, Paige? And why in the name of Charles Xavier did you say that???? 'Gee, Jono, Ah think you're swell.' Swell. Who in their raht mind uses the word 'swell?' Ah can't BELIEVE how stupid that was! Now he's just gonna think yer a moronic hussy with a 'Leave it to Beaver' fixation!!*  
  
In the confines of her dorm room, Paige Guthrie threw herself on her bed and promptly buried her head in her pillow. She had absolutely no intention of coming out again, either, until she heard a knock on the door.  
  
"Yo, country mouse!" Oh great, just what she needed.  
  
Sniffing a few times, Paige poked her head out of the pillow.  
  
"What is it, Angelo?" She tried not to sound upset but she wasn't an actress and he knew she didn't pull it off. She just prayed he wouldn't notice or he wouldn't care. But on some other level she had buried, she was screaming for someone to listen to her.  
  
Out in the hall, her friend paused. She waited, heart frozen in terror that he'd notice, or maybe that he wouldn't.  
  
"Just wondering if you want to come watch a movie with us. We rented 'Shawshank Redemption.' What can I say, we let Monet pick."  
  
It wasn't a particularly funny statement, but Paige laughed anyway. It felt good to do it. She hadn't done it in a long while, and she had needed to desperately. It was then she realized how long it had been since she had done anything with any of the other students there. She usually just stayed in her room by herself, daydreaming of Jono or doing her homework. And she loved 'Shawshank.'  
  
"Okay, sure." she finally said. "Just let me make myself presentable." She ran over to her mirror and blew her nose, ran a hand through her slightly toussled hair, and smoothed the wrinkles in her shirt as much as she could before opening the door and facing Angelo for the first time outside of school in almost a week. She surprised herself by having the smile on her face be a genuine one.  
  
Angelo gave her a once over, approval glinting in his eye.  
  
"You call that presentable, chika?" he joked. "I've seen better-looking villains on 'Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers'."  
  
She gave him a lopsided smirk with her patronising look.  
  
"That the best you can do, Angelo? You must actually watch the show, your humor's just as dry."  
  
"Oh ouch, you wound me! How will I ever survive?"  
  
The verbal bashing continued all the way through the previews and Paige couldn't remember the last time she had been that happy.  
  
By the time the movie was over she was glad it was Friday night because there was no way she was going to be getting up before ten the next day. Not only was it some ungodly hour of the morning, but after the movie everyone had gone on a little shopping spree at the local supermarket. Of course nothing they had bought had had any nutritional value at all. By about 2 am, three packages of cookies, four cartons of ice cream and two bottles of sparkling cider had been consumed and everyone was now in the middle of a scorching game of Truth or Dare.  
  
Whether it was the early hour, the sugar, the cider (which always seemed to have an intoxicating effect on her), or the amount of fun she was having, Paige couldn't remember the last time she had felt so uninhibited. Because it was the middle of July, they all decided to move outside. So far, Jubilee had to reveal how far she'd actually gone with a guy, Everett had to say who he had a crush on, and Angelo had to pee in a cup and put it in the neighbor's mailbox. It was now his turn.  
  
"Okay, ummmmm...Paige!" An evil grin slid across his ashen face as he pondered the possibilities of all the horrible things he could make her do.  
  
Not wanting to take the risk of anyone finding out about her feelings for Jono, she winced and took a dare. And then wished she hadn't.  
  
"You want me to do what?" She looked at him incredulously.  
  
"You heard me, Country Mouse. Unless you want to take a truth, you're going to have to do it." And he gave her the smug, self-satisfied grin that, for some odd reason, made her think of the sound of shattering glass.  
  
"Get me the ping-pong paddle." she managed through clenched teeth. "And if I get a splinter, Espinosa, it's comin' out of your hide."  
  
That got a snicker out of Jubilee and Everett. The thought of Paige attempting to explain to the headmasters how she got splinters in her mouth was almost as funny as the expression that would no doubt be on the next door neighbor's face the next morning.  
  
After enduring the most embarrassing incident of her life, Paige was more than ready for her turn. After looking thoughtful and indecisive for a little while, she finally chose someone.  
  
"Angelo!" And she gave him the most evil, wicked grin she could. She knew he wouldn't take truth because he insisted on keeping this air of mystery about his past. Most of the time it made her want to be sick, but sometimes, like now, it had its uses.  
  
He took a dare, much as she had predicted. And she gave him the nastiest one she could think of. Everyone stared at her, wondering where the hell this had come from, and why she hadn't shown her nefarious creative side before now.  
  
With a grimace and a few Spanish mutterings that she was pretty sure she didn't want a translation for, he grudgingly stood up, dropped his pants, grabbed himself and started singing the ever-hated 'I'm a Little Teapot' song. Much to everyone's delight.  
  
It was now about 4 am and pretty much everyone else had gone to bed. But Paige and Angelo weren't tired and decided to keep each other company rather than stay in their respective rooms. That's how they ended up on the roof staring up at the fading stars, huddled together in the cold pre-dawn air. She couldn't even  
remember what they'd been talking about, all she knew was that this was the most fun she could remember having in a very long time. Ping-pong paddles not withstanding.  
  
And then she started giggling for absolutely no reason. Something about the situation just struck her as funny and she couldn't stop. After a while it turned into a full-blown laugh which she tried desperately to cover up but only ended up making herself snort which made her laugh harder. And, as laughs often are, this one was highly contagious and soon Angelo was laughing along with her. The fit finally died down and they were left feeling slightly euphoric, and very happy.  
  
"Angelo," Paige looked directly at her friend. "Thank you for inviting me. I guess I haven't been doing much lately and it was starting to get me down."  
  
"You're welcome, Paige. Just don't ever make me sing with my pants off again."  
  
That started off a fresh batch of giggles which took a few moments to die down. When they were calm again, a thoughtful look crossed Angelo's face.  
  
"Paige?" She turned to face him, her face full of light and innocence. Something he hadn't known he'd missed until he met her. "What was wrong earlier? You were upset about something-- Nevermind, it's none of my business."  
  
"No, but I'll tell you anyway."  
  
Walking down the hallway to her room, Paige realized that she was going to hate herself later for telling Angelo her "little secret" but right now she was so deliriously happy she didn't care. She'd seen sunrises before, but she'd usually just woken up before dawn to go jogging. She'd never stayed up all night and then gone to bed when it was just getting light. It was fun, but not something she'd want to make a regular habit of.  
  
Arriving at her door, she looked down to see what made it so hard to open. There was a letter wedged underneath it. Curiously, she picked it up and read it in the hall. All it said was:  
  
I think you're swell too.  
  
A smile crept across her face, even though it felt like her heart would never start moving again. She flung open her door, slammed it closed, threw herself on her bed and screamed into her pillow. After she was out of breath, she unfolded the pieceof paper and read it again, loving the tingling sensation created by the huge adrenaline rush she got just reading his handwriting.  
  
*There is no way Ah'm gettin' to sleep any time soon!* she thought to herself just before she drifted off.


	3. Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon

The door was a lot more menacing than she remembered; she could almost see twisted faces in the patterns of the knots in the wood. She was almost afraid to touch it for fear of one of them biting her, though she knew that was insane. The door hadn't changed at all, just her perception of it. She was about to do one of the most nerve-wracking things a young girl can do: ask a guy out for the first time.  
  
She'd spent nearly a week trying to work up the nerve to even talk to him, and she now had to ask him out. For real. Before she lost her nerve again, which would necessitate it being soon.  
  
*'His judgement cometh, and right soon too.'* she thought morbidly to herself. *Well, that's what ya get for watching 'Shawshank' three times in one month.*  
  
Sighing with a quavering lungful of air, she calmed herself as much as she could and, with an unsteady hand, knocked on the door. As soon as her hand hit the wood, however, she let out a yelp and jerked her fist back, staring at her injured knuckle. A small line of vermillion trickled its way down the back of her hand. This didn't bode well at all, she thought to herself as she sat and tried to remove the rather large splinter jutting halfway out of the fleshy membrane in between her middle and ring finger.  
  
After biting back tears of pain and a slight feeling of nausea, she managed to yank the offending shard from her hand. The thin thread of blood widened only a little and the initial pain factor had reduced to a very small sting.  
  
Well, she didn't want to face Jono in anything less than perfect form, so a second later, a sound akin to that of shredding paper reverberated through the curiously empty mansion. A brand new Paige stood in the husk of the old, contemplating the fast approaching fork in the road. There she stood, heart thumping so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest like one of those aliens Jubilee was so fond of, or simply stop altogether, trying to decide whether to make what was probably considered to be a fairly insignificant decision on this particular road. But it didn't feel insignificant. It felt very significant.  
  
She'd faced Emplate, the Phalanx, an enraged and frightened Penance, Omega Red, and a troop of faeries. How could her own teammate scare her this much? Maybe because she knew how to handle react to those situations. Because with them she wasn't putting herself out there, trustingly, vulnerable, with a good chance of getting stepped on. Just like-- no. She wasn't going to go there right now. Or ever again. That was the past and one stupid, selfish... *bastard* who couldn't get past his own ego.  
  
But how could she be an effective leader to the team if she couldn't even decide whether or not to ask out a guy she had a huge crush on?  
  
*Paige, get ahold of yerself, gal! You've had this argument goin' on for months. It's not goin' to stop, either, 'till you do somethin' 'bout it. So get in there and just DO it!*  
  
Chin set in determination, she took the first step forward, toward her destiny, whatever it may be. But she couldn't take the second one. Not because she had started second-guessing herself again, or because she simply lost her nerve. It was because she couldn't move her feet. She glanced down in surprise to find her own husked skin with an iron grip on her ankles. When she tried to shake it off it responded by starting to slither its way up the rest of her body.  
  
She tried ineffectively to rip free of it, but the stuff was stronger than it had been when she initially ripped it off. She inhaled a breath to yell for help when the skin reached her head and wrapped itself around her mouth, the bridge of her nose, and her forehead. Off balance and trying to move somewhere, anywhere, she ended up knocking herself onto her stomach. Recovering from the shock of the fall and attempting to overcome her growing terror and claustrophobia, she found herself with a rather intimidating view of the door. It might've been her imagination at this point, but she could swear that the thing was smiling at her. The kind of smile that you see on the face of that friend of your father's who's too drunk to go home and you're standing there in your oversized t-shirt and not much else, all ready for bed. The kind of predatory leer of a man who's not in full posession of his faculties and knows your dad is passed out on the couch and no one else is home. That door made Paige feel terror on a level she never knew existed.  
  
Then the light caught her attention. It emanated a razor-sharp line from under the malicious door, so bright it turned the midday sunshine pouring in through the picture windows into a moonless midnight. It slashed through the stale air to leave a slice of its being across her forehead. And it was growing brighter.  
  
Without warning the door flew open, revealing a raging inferno within and one dark figure silhouetteed against the firey maw. He hadn't changed in the slightest, yet somehow his presence was pure, unadulterated evil.  
  
She tried to scream against the once organic bandages that tied her as she was sucked by some invisible force headlong into the doorway, to the shadowed form of Jonothan Starsmore, to her destiny, whatever it may be.  
  
The slam of the door was the last sound heard in the empty house.  
  
Paige awoke in a tangle of sweaty sheets, uncomfortably hot and sticky in the early morning sunshine that splashed her room with color. She lay in her bed for a while, readjusting to reality and supressing the urge to throw up. She could hear the soothing sounds of some song on her radio, turned on last night to help her  
sleep.  
  
"...and if I'm wasting all your time  
"this time  
"maybe you never learned to take  
"and if I'm hanging on to your shade  
"I guess I'm way beyond the pale..."  
  
She absorbed herself in the music, trying to get the soft tinkling of the piano to sooth her raw nerves.  
  
"...and southern men can grow gold  
"can grow pertty  
"blood can be pertty  
"like a delicate man  
"copper to steel to a hinge that is faltered  
"that lets you in lets you in lets you in  
"something's just keeping you numb..."  
  
Finally feeling her pounding heart returning to normal, Paige managed to untangle herself from the sheets and slide out of bed. She walked over to the other side of the room, tripping over the open copy of 'Macbeth' laying on her floor, and switched the radio off just as the lady was singing "...happy for you and I'm sure that I hate you..."  
  
She then turned and surveyed the alien-esque landscape that served as her room. Someday she'd clean it, but today just wasn't someday. Today was never someday.  
  
Correction: today wasn't the someday she would clean her room. Today was the someday that she was going to tell Jono how she felt. She didn't care that he and Penance were involved, though she didn't understand how involved you could be with someone you couldn't touch without having your hands sliced off. But to each their own. He probably just liked redheads.  
  
Everyone had already had their breakfast by the time she'd gotten back from her jog. Well, everyone except the person now slurping the milk out of a bowl that had probably once contained Cheerios.  
  
Angelo looked up as she came in, a small dribble of milk sliding down his pallid face to drip off the end of his chin and end up back in his bowl. He sheepishly swallowed what he had in his mouth and then wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, making a slight scraping noise as his skin rubbed over the stubble he hadn't shaved in a week. He then gave her a very polite smile and gestured to a chair while saying "Hola, chica. Saw you jogging this morning. Don't think I ever really appreciated the view from the front porch so much." His polite smile turned into a joking smirk, which she returned and sank into the seat next to him.  
  
"Glad you enjoyed it, Ange," she said with a seductive purr, "because you know I did it all for you."  
  
Angelo's face went puzzlingly blank for a minute before he shook himself out of it and fired off some witty remark. The rest of breakfast remained uneventful, with Paige stressed about her upcoming meeting with Jono and trying not to show it. And Angelo had been acting a bit strangely around her ever since she had told him about her crush the week before. Probably just getting over the shock that she actually liked Jono, of all people. Sometimes even she couldn't believe it.  
~~~~~~~~

  
The scene was eerily familiar. There was the door, standing there in all it's wooden might, mocking her as she stood, indecisive before it. She closed her eyes, thinking this through one final time. If she went through that door, there would be no turning back. No way to undo her actions or unsay her words, no matter how much she might want to.  
  
On the other hand, even if he said no she'd still feel a sense of relief knowing how he felt. And there was nothing to say they couldn't be friends. Sure, it might be a little awkward at first, but she really didn't think he hated her. Besides, the sooner she was rejected the sooner she could get over him and move on with her life.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at the door. That's all it was; a door. Not some demonic hellion bent on causing her misery, it was an inanimate object that couldn't hurt her in the slightest. She knocked on it without recieving a splinter, a bruised knuckle, or any form of pain. She waited breathlessly for any sort of  
response from below. 

~Who is it?~  
  
"It's--" Her voice faltered. She cleared it angrily and started again. "It's Paige, Jono. Can I come in?"  
  
There was a short pause that was just long enough to make her wonder if he'd heard her. She still wasn't sure how limited his telepathy was.  
  
~Sure, come on down.~ she finally heard.  
  
She reached out a shaking hand and gripped the cool metal doorknob. The door swung open, revealing the staircase that led down to the dark room. She caught a faint musty smell, a mixture of man and old socks. She slowly descended the creaking staircase, closing the door behind her, then gripping the small railing so she could find her way until her eyes adjusted to the dark. As she got closer to the bottom she could see a soft flickering light, she assumed from his television. She also saw used bottles of varying kinds of cola, dirty socks, and enough Sega games to start his own arcade strewn about on the floor. The socks and games were probably his, the bottles were most likely added to make his room seem more at  
home, since he didn't eat or drink.  
  
As she reached the bottom of the stairs she finally saw him. He was sitting on his couch looking over at her, an unreadable expression on his face. The musky smell was stronger down here, but not overpowering. Almost pleasant in a foreign sort of way.  
  
"Hi." It was all she could think of to say. Her mind was as clear as Monet's complexion, but it was also as empty as the RC Cola bottle at her feet.  
  
~Hi.~ he replied.  
  
"Hi." she said reflexively.  
  
~Hi.~ he said again, though she thought she could almost detect a small thread of amusement in the thought.  
  
"Hi. Shit." She covered her face with her hands. Why couldn't she say anything else, dammit?  
  
~Hi shit, yerself.~ The comment got a laugh out of her, but not a very long one. If she laughed too long it might get hysterical.  
  
"Okay." She felt ready. "Hi." She smaked herself on the forehead. "Ah'm not goin' to say that anymore!" she informed him, her accent slipping.  
  
~Okay.~  
  
"Uhhhh... Nice room!" she grasped at anything to say, just so she wouldn't drop this in his lap.  
  
~Thanks. If I'd 'have known yer were comin' I've picked up a bit.~  
  
"Oh, 's okay. It's noce to know I'm not the only slob on campus." *Oh, way to go, Guthrie, just insult him!* But he didn't seem to mind the comment. In fact, the skin around his eyes crinkled in, what she assumed, was a smile.  
  
~Glad t' know yer don't mind. Me folks were never too impressed with me decoratin' skills.~

She laughed at that. He was actually developing a sense of humor! But she had to do this now. If they got into a big discussion she'd loose her nerve and this would continue on forever.  
  
"Um, Jono, the reason I came down here was to..." Oh nonononono, she made eye-contact, bad thing! Don't mind it, just keep going. "To ask you something." Oh he was so gorgeous! Sitting there on that beat up old couch, bathed in flickering white light from the TV in front of him, he looked positively ethereal.  
  
~Go ahead.~  
  
That brown shock of hair was really distracting. He had the kind of hair that was meant to have fingers run through it. She almost asked him what kind of conditioner he used but caught herself in time.  
  
"I just wanted to know if," Now or never. "If you'd like to go out. With me. Sometime. You can say no, too, it's okay."  
  
She did it. Ohmigod, she actually did it. She couldn't believe that she'd actually done it. And judging from the look on Jono's face, he couldn't believe it, either.  
  
Paige stood frozen in front of him, wanting more than anything to run up those stairs and not hear his reply. But she couldn't. She needed to know his answer. So there she stood, pulse racing in her ears, awaiting his judgement.


	4. My Life

Once, when Jono was feeling contemplative and poetic, he had said that the gaping hole in his chest was somehow appropriate. That life had burned out his heart but forgotten to put out the fire. He'd liked that so much he wrote a song about it. It was one of his better songs and was quite pleased with it until he realized that very few people would pay to listen to a singer with no voice to speak of.  
  
To say that Jono was enigmatic was an understatement. He was a logical conundrum, a scientific impossibility, a walking miracle, a freak of nature, whatever suits you. There should've been no way he could've survived the accident that scarred him from his head to his chest. Doctors and scientists had scratched their heads and given up, saying there was no way it could've happened. On some level, Jono was pleased that no one could figure him out. He honestly didn't care how he lived, he just knew that he did. When pressed for an answer he'd most likely chalk it up to the fact that he just refused to believe he was dead and his body took his word for it.  
  
In other words, he was stubborn. Not just about death, either, about life and it's many facets. He wasn't a recluse out of want, but because he didn't think anyone would want him around. It had, in the past, been pointed out to him that he was a bit stand-offish. Even before the accident his people skills had been practically non-existent. Considering that Gayle was pretty much the only person he spent any time with and the time he wasn't with her he was in his room, writing songs and seeing how many cans of pop he could drink before throwing up. He loved his family, he just couldn't be around them for very long.  
  
And then came the accident. Gayle had left him, though whether it was because he was a mutant or because she blamed him for it all, he was never sure. All he knew was that she had left and that made the whole thing that much more unbearable. He withdrew farther into the protective coldness and isolation that had protected him from the world before, hoping maybe that if he withdrew far enough the world would forget about him and merrily spin on without him. He allowednothing inside his wall, not his family, especially not the doctors and psychologists they thrust at him. He even stopped writing his songs.  
  
When the letter from Xavier came, he didn't even know why he went. Maybe some subconscious act of self-preservation, maybe he just couldn't stay with the places and people that only reminded him of the things he lost and the things he never got the opportunity to lose.  
  
He never expected to find anything in America except for an opportunity to start his life over. He never expected Paige. In fact, Paige was about the last thing he expected to find in Massachusetts. He hadn't really noticed her when they first met, but then he'd been a bit distracted at the time. His first impressions of her consisted of overanxious, overzealous, and overconfident. Though she did have great hair, he grudgingly admitted to himself one day. And the attraction had started, though he was unaware of it at the time. He had lived in ignorance of his feelings until the day she had gotten drunk. When he felt her hand on his, seen the earnest expression of someone who's drunk and trying to get someone to take them seriously on her sinless face, he felt a stirring from somewhere in the great cavity of his chest. The wall had developed a crack, he realized, and in a moment of pure tension as he looked at her frightened and pitiable face, all the memories he had of her came flooding over him, threatening to drown out the sound of the blood thundering in his ears as she leaned toward him, her intent clear as her suddenly sober eyes. The wall had come up as soon as he had felt her beer-drenched breath on his face but he realized that it had done no good; she was already inside. In a blind panic, he had lashed out, destroying the building they were in and nearly her as well.  
  
Jonothan recalled that as though it were a dream, and sometimes wondered if it were, if he hadn't imagined the whole thing in some half-hearted attempt to get over Gayle.  
  
*Gayle again.* his mind muttered disgustedly. *Get yer ruddy mind off 'er fer a change, Starsmore. Thinkin' about it won't change ther fact that...* But he couldn't finish the thought.  
  
The day before he'd gotten a letter from her. She had apologized for the mess she had caused with Emplate and for the pain she had caused him. She said that this was the only way she could think of to say good bye without causing any more pain or trouble, though she knew it was rather impersonal. She also said that it was the only way she could think of to tell him about Mike. She'd met someone else, she'd moved on. He tried to be happy for her, he really did, but it felt as hollow as he did. Gayle was sleeping with a twenty-one year old college student named Mike and he hated it. So he shut himself up in his room and stared at a staticky television screen, not seeing anything except a picture show of his life with Gayle.  
  
And then there was Paige. If she'd only gotten there a day sooner, things would've worked so well. Maybe Gayle wouldn't hurt so much if Paige had been there to ease the blow. But the timing was off and life was now officially buggered. Gayle was gone and he needed to heal, but Paige needed an answer. There was no answer he could give. He wanted to say yes, but he also knew that it wouldn't be fair to either one of them if he did. So he had asked for time to think about it, which he had been doing for the past few hours without making any headway.  
  
Burrying his face in his hands, he tried desperately to think of anyone he could go to that could give him advice. Penance couldn't, or wouldn't, talk and there was no one else he had developed any kind of friendship with. Except...  
  
_____________________  
  
Getting ahold of Angelo had been more difficult than he originally anticipated. After finally tracking him down and geting them both to a quiet place where they could talk and not be overheard. That quiet place turned out to be the one of the local coffee shops.  
  
"So," said Angelo, lightly blowing on the black coffee that sat before him, "what do you need, amigo?"  
  
~It's...a problem I don't know 'ow to deal with. I thought yer might be able ter give me some advice.~  
  
Angelo assessed his friend's appearance and emotional state over the rim of his coffee mug and decided he looked like hell.  
  
"Women trouble, huh?" Jono gave the right reaction and the coffee turned bitter in his mouth. He swallowed it with some effort and tried to look casual.  
  
"Paige?"  
  
The astounded look on Jono's face told him that he'd been right on the money.  
  
~'Ow did yer--~  
  
"She told me."  
  
They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, the combined smells of coffee and cigarette smoke going unnoticed through two sets of nostrils that had been immunized to the odors years ago. Then Angelo cleared his throat.  
  
"She ask you out?"  
  
~Yeah.~  
  
"Well, hey, man, if you don't want to go out with her, then--"  
  
~But I *do*, that's ther problem!~  
  
The bottom dropped out of Angelo's stomach. How long had these two been harboring these feelings? From the look of things, long enough to weigh anchor, dock them, repaint them, and scrape the barnacles off the bottom. Not good.  
  
"Well," he began slowly, making sure his voice didn't crack, "if you want to date her, and she wants to date you, and you both know it, what's the problem?"  
  
~I just...don't know if I should.~  
  
And Jono explained the situation to the best of his ability while Angelo got a sage and thoughtful expression on his face. When the young Briton had finished, his companion let out a low whistle.  
  
"That's a tough one, man."  
  
~Tell me about it.~  
  
"Man..." Angelo whispered. Of all people he probably had the closest idea of what Gayle had meant to his friend. And for her to drop that on his lap just when he was starting to pull everything together again was just cruel. That in and of itsself was going to be hard enough for him to deal with, but with the new Paige dilemma, Jono's life seemed to be turning into the plot for a sitcom.  
  
And of course none of this would be easy on Angelo, though he was doing his best to deny it. But he had begun to wonder just how long he could continue to deny it before something snapped. This would be hard enough for him if he hadn't been involved, but now that he had to give Jono unbiased advice on a subject he was very biased on and then having to live with the consequences either way, it was maddening!  
  
*Okay, Espinosa, think! What would he do if you were in his shoes?* He knew for a fact that Jono would tell him his honest opinion, regardless of any personal stake he might have. That was what Jono needed right now, too. This sort of thing seems pretty trivial when it happens to someone else, especially if they talk about it in a pop song, but when it happens to you, you understand why they were whining so much about it. This was a heavy emotion they were dealing with, a lot heavier than people gave most teenagers credit for having.  
  
And Jono needed an answer. An answer Angelo didn't know if he could give. Because he had recently realized that Paige meant a lot to him. More than he expected she would, and now his chance was getting cut off before he even knew he had any feelings to explore.  
  
As he gave Jono his answer, he gave an inward wince and a curse directed at the lousy timing that put him in this situation.


	5. Watercolor

'Come to the library at dusk. We need to talk.'  
  
Jono re-read the message, not knowing what else to do. With a mental sigh, he thumped his head against the door to his room and closed his eyes. When had everything gotten so complicated?   
  
*Three days ago this would've been so much easier. Paige askes yer out, yer say yes, everybody lives 'appily ever after.*  
  
He usually scoffed at the idea of Fate or destiny, but sometimes coincidences were just too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence. Or something. He was over Gayle, he knew that much, but the arrival of her letter got him thinking. What if he had only been attraced to Paige because she was the first person to show any interest in him after the accident? The fact that she was beautiful, intelligent, and caring might have confused the situation. What might have only been a friendship got mixed up with some other emotions which soon produced a crush of horrifying proportions. Before when he thought of her, he got all the typical signs of a crush. Now all he got was a wash of unidentafiable emotions. He might just be hurting from Gayle, or he might be realizing that his feelings for Paige didn't run as deep as he once thought.  
  
And Angelo hadn't been as big of a help as he hoped. From some of his reactions, Jono judged his friend to be in the same boat he had been in a few days ago. Poor kid.  
  
So the easy way out hadn't worked and he had to make up his mind. Considering he honestly didn't know how he felt about her, this wasn't going to be as easy as one would think, and he only had a few hours to make a decision.  
~~~~~~~

  
She'd been sitting for forty five minutes already. She should've put a specific time for him to meet her, not 'dusk.' When would she learn? It seemed like everything she did lately was just stupid. Well, there was no way of changing any of it now, so she might as well just wait. If he didn't show up, well then, she had her answer. If not, then it would only be a matter of time until he did. And it wasn't like she didn't have plenty of reading material.  
  
An hour and three unread books later, she was still waiting. Every book she tried to read just went out her ear. She couldn't concentrate on anything except her impending situation and her sore bottom. She was just standing up to leave when the door to the library opened and a tall, brown-haired young man walked in, looking rather out of place among the Jane Austen novels.  
  
She froze. She just watched as he came towards her, the clicking of his black leather boots on the tile floor coinciding with the pounding of the blood in her ears. Maybe it was the reddish light of the setting sun, but she caught a faint air of James Dean about him. Not in the way he dressed, he always looked like that, but in his eyes. That tough guy with the air of sadness that made her want to cuddle him and shoo his demons away.  
  
All too soon he was at her table.  
  
~Yer wanted ter see me, gel?~  
  
"Yeah." Not knowing what to say, she said nothing, still standing awkwardly at the book-strewn table.  
  
~Listen--~  
  
"No, wait, Jono." she interrupted. "Before you say anything, can I ask you something?"  
  
~...Sure.~  
  
Now suddenly unsure of herself, Paige lowered her eyes to the table as her fingers absently traced the cover of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' that she had been trying to read before.  
  
"Do you have any interest in me?"  
  
That was the question he had been dreading. He had spent a long time pondering that question, not really making any definite headway. Until this moment, he had had no idea of how to answer that query. To tell her yes and not be sure could end up hurting them both later on. To tell her no withou being sure, he could end up throwing something away that could have been so right. But seeing her there, the setting sun painting her hair reddish-gold, looking far all the world like she belonged in the book under her hands, he knew his answer. He didn't know if it was the right one, he just knew he couldn't answer any other way.  
  
~Not...in ther way yer 'oping...I think.~  
  
She nodded, not looking up at him. She wasn't crying, but he could still see she was upset.  
  
"I think I pretty much knew," she said, overdoing the 'yankee' accent, making it sound as false as it was. "I just...didn't want to admit it to myself, I guess."  
  
~I'm sorry, luv.~ It was stupid and cliched, but it was all he could think of to say.  
  
"Don't be." Her head turned to face his, her eyes clear and a sad smile tugging a the egdes of her mouth. "You can't change the way you feel, so there's nothing to feel bad about. It's no one's fault, it's just the way it turned out." She took a deep breath and let it out. He then realized she was closer to crying than he had thought at first.  
  
"I feel good!" she said with a laugh that was only half sincere. "I feel better than I have in a long time." She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide it's shaking.  
  
~Yer sure?~ He asked, not out of need for his ego, but of genuine concern for her. Rejection was never easy, especially when you weren't used to it.  
  
"Yeah." She gave him a grin that couldn't quite hide the sadness around her eyes. "I'm fine."  
  
She was going to cry, she needed to cry, and he knew neither of them wanted him to be around when she did.  
  
"Well, I'm sure I have some studying to do, so I'd better..." She motioned toward the door.  
  
~There's a book I've been meaning ter check out 'ere fer a while. I--uh...~ He trailed off, nothing left to say. As she walked by he stood still, feeling worse than he thought he would. And he wondered if he had done the right thing. If they were supposed to be just friends or if he'd just blown his only shot at something that  
would have worked. But he had had doubts. One thing Gayle used to tell him was if there was any doubt at all, don't do it. You could forget about the nagging little sensation at the back of your neck for a while, but not forever, and it would always come back. He hadn't agreed with that philosophy, he still didn't, but sometimes, if the doubt was big enough, it held true.  
  
As soon as she had passed him, he turned to look at her, guilt making him watch until she had left and the door had completely closed. Long blue shadows lengthened slowly down the floor as the last of the sun's rays slid beneath the horizon.  
  
_________   
  
The door closed behind her with a resounding thud. Her legs weak, she leaned up against the heavy wood. She took a couple deep breaths, trying to keep herself under control, and then took a few curious sniffs.  
  
A small smile touched her face. She'd have to lecture Angelo about eavesdropping, or at least smoking while trying to do it. But it could wait for a while. Right now she just needed to be alone with her thoughts and try to mend as much as she could. And a pint of Ben and Jerry couldn't hurt either, she thought as she headed to the kitchen for a brief pit stop.  
  
The unnoticed crimson shadow over her head hid from view in the branches of a leafy oak tree. From this vanage point, she had seen everything. She may or may not have understood the words, but it didn't matter. These people's actions spoke clearer than any language. And in the cool evening of a Massachusetts summer, Penance smiled at the ongoing saga of youth, and marvelled at it all.


End file.
